


Lando and Charles

by kakkakerssi



Series: Max and Lando [3]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21987721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakkakerssi/pseuds/kakkakerssi
Summary: Lando finally gets his happy ending. It only needed 12,553 words.(warnings are for discussions of those themes from previous fics in this series. Nobody dies in this one, I promise.)
Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell, Charles Leclerc/Lando Norris, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr, Lando Norris/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Carlos Sainz Jr
Series: Max and Lando [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575997
Comments: 40
Kudos: 85





	Lando and Charles

“I hate being here without him,” Daniel said sadly, glancing out at all the orange fans in the grandstands at Zandvoort. He offered them a wave and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose. “It seems like such a waste. He had so much potential, and now he’s dead.”

“I guess,” Charles replied, screwing his face up slightly. “He was in prison though.”

Lando fidgeted against the railing on the truck for the driver’s parade, wishing he could find someone to talk to and not have to overhear Daniel’s and Charles’s conversation about Max. Lando hated being in the Netherlands, and he hated the fact that he was so good there. He’d taken his maiden victory at the track the year before, and now he was on pole again. Part of him hoped his car would explode on the way to the grid so he wouldn’t have to do the race.

“Yeah, even that was stupid, I don’t understand it,” Daniel admitted. “I visited him in prison. He said it was a one-time thing that got out of hand. Five years seems pretty harsh for just an argument.”

Lando felt bile rising in his throat and he swallowed it down, panicking when he saw a TV presenter and microphone heading straight for him. He looked around for anyone who could help him and the first person he spotted was Carlos, talking and laughing with Pierre. Lando reached out and apologised as he snatched Carlos’s sunglasses off his head, plonking them on his own face and pulling his baseball cap down as low as it would go.

“And here we have our pole-sitter, Lando Norris!” Rosanna’s voice was bubbly and professional as always, and Lando was frustrated with himself for wanting her to piss off. She was just doing her job. “Lando, how are you feeling ahead of the race today?”

A small voice in his head told Lando to be honest but he ignored it. “Pretty good,” he lied. “Starting from pole always helps, I just have to try and hold Carlos off into turn one and then we’ll see what happens.”

“There’s so much McLaren orange in the grandstands,” Rosanna continued. “And a lot of Verstappen flags as well. You were close with him; what do you think he’d make of all this?”

Lando’s breath hitched in his throat; he opened his mouth to speak but no sounds came out. He hadn’t prepared an answer for this question, and he didn’t have anything simple and inoffensive he could pull out of the back of his mind.

“I think he’d love it. I think he’d be grateful for the support, but I don’t think he’d be challenging Lando around here, Lando’s been so dominant every time we’ve come.”

Charles’s voice was everything Lando wishes he could be - calm, collected, friendly. Lando appreciated Charles rescuing him and he managed to say ‘thank you’ to Rosanna as she wished him a good race and made her way down to the back of the truck to talk to the Haas drivers.

“They shouldn’t ask you about your dead friends without warning,” Charles said sympathetically, reaching out and squeezing Lando’s shoulder. “You’ll do him proud today,” he added, before leaving Lando and returning to his conversation with Daniel.

“I don’t want to do him proud,” Lando mumbled, so quietly that nobody else overheard, and he turned to face the outside of the truck, staring down hard at the floor. He flinched when he felt another hand on his back but relaxed slightly when he realised it was Carlos.

“You can keep my sunglasses,” Carlos said, leaning against the railing next to Lando, wrapping his arm around Lando’s shoulder to help shield him from everyone else. “I’ll get another pair. Do you have headphones with you?”

Lando shook his head, still fighting the urge to be sick.

Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out his airpods, holding them out to Lando. They were still paired to Lando’s phone from last time he needed them. “Use these. You’ve got to be okay for the race; I don’t want an easy fight into turn one.”

Lando nodded, stuffing the headphones into his ears and finding a loud and obnoxious playlist on his phone to drown out the sound of the world. With his hat, sunglasses, and headphones he felt a lot more protected from everything and he managed to smile and wave to the last few grandstands on the way back to the start finish straight. He waited for the truck to almost stop before leaping off the side of it and climbing through a hole in the pit wall to escape back to the McLaren motorhome.

The race itself was straightforward; Lando led every single lap of it and the closest Carlos managed to get behind him was 4 seconds. Nobody else asked Lando about Max in any of the post-race media work and he escaped in his car as soon as he could, opting to drive back to England because even though it was a 6 hour drive, it gave Lando time to be completely on his own, not having to talk to anyone. He managed to return Carlos his headphones and sunglasses and was grateful when Carlos didn’t ask questions. Their relationship was in a better place; Carlos was better at setting boundaries and Lando was better at not oversharing. Lando crawled into his bed at home just before one o’clock in the morning and slept more deeply than he had in weeks.

\---

“Carlos!” Lando jogged after his friend and team-mate, catching up with him just as they got out to the front of the McLaren Technical Centre. They’d both been there for the day, alternating between meetings, technical analyses, and work on the sim. “Wait up!”

Carlos stopped by the lake and turned back to face Lando, smiling warmly at him. “How was your day, my friend? Did you find more ways to beat me?”

Lando grinned, burying his hands in his pockets and shrugging. “I’m trying my best, that’s all. I’m glad it’s working.” With only a few races to go before the summer break, Lando was forty points ahead of Carlos in the championship. There was still a long way to go to catch Leclerc, but mathematically they were both still in the hunt.

“I don’t mind if you beat me in the end,” Carlos said, “just as long as we both beat Leclerc.”

“He’s coming to the wedding, isn’t he?” Lando checked. “Maybe we can poison him. Not enough to kill him, but enough to put him out of a few races so we can get a lead.”

“I like - and am scared of - the way you think, my friend,” Carlos laughed.

“I’ll do some research,” Lando offered, “see what I can come up with. Do you want to go for dinner together?”

“I can’t,” Carlos said, sounding apologetic. “I have a date.”

“A date?” Lando asked, his voice raising in pitch. He frowned a little, trying to understand what Carlos was telling him. “Like, a first date? Or a later date?”

“A later date,” Carlos replied. “It’s been going for three months.”

“Fuck, Carlos,” Lando said, frowning more. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He swallowed thickly and peered across at Carlos, hurt that Carlos hadn’t told him about the update to his love life. 

Carlos shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. You didn’t ask, and it’s not really any of your business who I date.”

Lando flinched, Carlos’s words feeling like a punch to his stomach. He knew Carlos had a point, though. Carlos had worked hard to put up healthy boundaries between them and if Carlos wasn’t dating Lando, then it wasn’t really Lando’s business who he dated instead. Lando reached out and gave Carlos a quick hug. “I’m happy for you, I really am,” he said, meaning every word of it. “Will you tell me about them? I know it’s not my business, but I do care about you and I do want to see you happy. Are you happy? Will you at least tell me if it’s a girl or a guy?”

“It’s a guy,” Carlos replied. He wanted to shout from the rooftops how in love he felt, but he also wanted to keep some parts of his life private from Lando for now. Lando didn’t need to know every single detail. “He makes me very happy.”

“What does he look like?”

“Similar height to me. Brown hair, blue eyes, tans easily,” Carlos explained, frowning because he realised those words would also describe Lando.

There was an awkward silence as Lando listened to his description, understanding that it described him too. “So like me, except more emotionally stable?” he joked, not wanting Carlos to feel awkward.

“Something like that,” Carlos replied. “But you’ll see him around, I’m sure. Maybe in Canada, we can hook up with George and Alex for dinner?”

“That sounds good. I hope I’m not a fifth wheel.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, my friend,” Carlos sighed. “I just thought it might be easier for you if it’s a bigger group.”

“No, I understand,” Lando insisted. “I’d much rather be a fifth wheel than a third wheel.” He hugged Carlos again and kissed his cheek. “I’m really happy for you. Whoever this guy is, I hope he treats you right, and I hope you enjoy your date tonight.” He offered Carlos a warm smile and then turned around, heading back into the MTC for some dinner and some late-night studying.

\---

“I’ll walk you out,” Carlos said, letting go of Pierre’s hand and climbing off the sofa. The two of them were in Alex’s hotel room, eating room service with George and Lando. Though it was getting late, it wasn’t quite late enough to go to bed but Lando had insisted on leaving, claiming he had a headache.

“I’m okay,” Lando mumbled as Carlos followed him out into the corridor.

“Is it definitely just a headache?” Carlos asked, concerned.

“Would it make a difference if I said ‘no’?” Lando replied, reaching up and shoving his hair out of his face. His anxiety had been bad all day; his stomach was in knots, his chest was tight, he felt nauseous and he had a headache. “My head does hurt.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, believing Lando. “Was it weird for you, seeing me with Pierre?”

“No, it was great,” Lando said, reaching his hand up behind him and massaging the base of his skull. “I’m sorry if I seemed off with him or anything. I’m genuinely happy for you guys. You never looked at me the way you look at him, and it makes me happy to see you happy. I don’t really know him that well, but he seems kind and funny, and he makes you laugh in ways I can’t, so… I’m genuinely happy for you, Carlos, it wasn’t weird for me at all.”

“Come here.” Carlos reached out and pulled Lando into his arms. Lando’s hands dropped to his sides and he rest his head against Carlos’s shoulder as Carlos put both his hands through Lando’s hair, gently massaging his head. “Is your anxiety bad today?”

“Complaining doesn’t make it better,” Lando murmured, closing his eyes and relaxing under Carlos’s grip. He took a few slow breaths and then pulled away. “I’ll be alright. I’ll go back to my room and try to sleep. You should go and be with your hot, new boyfriend.”

“Sure?”

“Carlos, go,” Lando said, more forcefully this time. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the track. Tell the others I’m sorry I had to bail.”

\---

The next morning at the track, Lando was feeling much better. Though he’d qualified in sixth, he was feeling optimistic about the race. All he had to do to win was overtake George, Alex, Pierre, Carlos, and Charles. When one interviewer asked him about the possibility of that happening, Lando described it as “easy.”

Lando found Pierre on the truck for the driver’s parade and pulled him away from George and Alex. Lando took his sunglasses off, wanting Pierre to see the sincere expression in his eyes. “I just want to apologise for last night.”

“Are you feeling better?” Pierre asked gently. “Carlos said you get headaches sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m fine now,” Lando replied. “I want to apologise if I seemed weird with you or anything. I don’t want you to think I don’t like you.”

“I’d understand if you didn’t,” Pierre said. “Carlos told me you guys had a thing for a while.”

Lando smiled sadly. “Yeah… that didn’t work out. It was mostly my fault. I just want you to know that I like you and I’m glad that you make Carlos happy. I want you to know that I’m not going to make any problems, or be jealous, or anything like that.”

“I appreciate it, thanks,” Pierre replied, holding his hand up for a fist bump. “I know you’re still his best friend.”

“Does that mean I have to threaten you?” Lando teased, bumping Pierre’s fist. “Say something threatening about what I’ll do to you if you break his heart?”

“No, I’m okay, you don’t need to threaten me,” Pierre laughed. He smiled widely when Carlos joined their conversation with an ‘everything okay here?’

“Everything’s fine.”

Lando finished second to Charles.

\---

“I’ll walk out with you,” Lando said, standing up from his chair as well. It was the morning after George and Alex’s wedding and everyone had been eating breakfast. Lando was the last to arrive, having not wanted to drag himself out of the comfy bed, but he managed to do it when he realised that not only was he starving, it would also be his last opportunity to see Charles away from the paddock.

Charles led Lando out of the breakfast room and they paused in the corridor outside, Charles fumbling with his room key in his pocket. He stilled his trembling fingers and offered Lando a smile. “I meant what I said last night, Lando, you’re always welcome in Monaco.”

“Thanks,” Lando said, grinning back at Charles. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. “Jesus, I feel like a fucking twelve-year-old.”

Charles reached out and cupped Lando’s jaw, tilting his head up. He pressed a gentle kiss to Lando’s lips before pulling back slightly, resting his forehead against Lando’s. “I want you to come to Monaco before the summer break is over,” he said, choosing the more direct option. “Will you have time?”

“I’ll find time,” Lando said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and putting them on Charles’s hips. “I want to come.”

Charles smiled, his long eyelashes tickling Lando’s cheeks. He kissed Lando again before pulling away completely. “I really have to go, I’m running so late,” he said apologetically, adding “get my phone number from Pierre!” before abandoning Lando in the corridor and dashing back to his room.

\---

Lando chased Charles up the hill, his lungs burning and his quads screaming at him to stop trying to pedal his bike on this sort of gradient. Lando was stubborn, though, and Charles was winning. Annoyed that the south of France had more mountains than Surrey, Lando stood up on his pedals and dropped down a gear, finally getting the bike to move in a way that included forward momentum. Charles’s only instructions for Lando’s visit to Monaco had been “bring your bike.”

When Lando got to the top of the hill, Charles was already done; standing next to his bike which was leaning against a large rock. Lando felt himself deflate, he didn’t think Charles had won by that much, and Lando pedalled over to Charles. He twisted his shoes out of the pedals and climbed off the side of his bike, resting it against Charles’s bike before stepping back, and dropping to his knees. Though he’d stopped pedalling, his heart rate continued to rise slightly and his chest felt tight.

“Lando, what’s wrong?” Charles knelt down next to Lando on the sandy gravel and reached out, unbuckling Lando’s helmet and pulling it off before pulling off his sunglasses too. He unzipped Lando’s jersey half way and put his hands on Lando’s shoulders, gently holding him upright. “Talk to me?”

“I’m okay,” Lando choked out, fighting to get his breathing back under control. He screwed his eyes shut and reached his hands up, grabbing Charles’s wrists for something real and stable to hold onto as his chest heaved, trying to get oxygen back to where it was needed. “Fuck.”

“Take your time,” Charles said softly. “I’m here, whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Lando mumbled as his heart rate slowed and he finally got his breathing back under control. He relaxed his grip on Charles’s wrists and opened his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said, feeling embarrassed. “I haven’t cycled that hard up a hill that big in a long time. I thought I was having a panic attack or something.”

“As long as you’re okay now, it’s okay,” Charles replied warmly, putting Lando’s sunglasses back on his head. “Come and look at the view. It’s one of my favourites.” He stood up and held his hand out to pull Lando to his feet, smiling widely when Lando accepted.

The two of them hung their helmets on the handlebars of their bikes and climbed between the rocks out onto a grassy cliff. Lando hung back at first but when he saw how confidently Charles walked towards the edge, he followed him and the two of them sat down on the grass. Over the edge, about 1 metre down, was a much larger ledge, and Lando stopped worrying about falling off this one. He sat cross-legged and kept his back straight, wanting to keep his lungs as open to fresh air as possible. He glanced at his watch and saw that his heart rate was almost back to normal.

“I love it up here,” Charles said, gazing out at the view of the hills below, the ocean just visible in the distance. “This is where I come when I need to get away from people.”

“Do you get anxious a lot?” Lando asked curiously, keeping his gaze on the horizon and not on Charles because he didn’t want Charles to feel like he was being interrogated.

“It’s just life, isn’t it?” Charles replied. “Sometimes you are in a room full of people and you just want to scream at them and run away, and sometimes you are on your own and you feel like the loneliest person ever. I come here when I’m feeling in between. Just me, my bike, and some quiet time.”

Lando nodded tacitly. “The landscape is so crazy here. We don’t have mountains like this at all in England. What’s it like, growing up in Monaco and living here?”

“I don’t think I could live anywhere else,” Charles said, ripping a blade of grass out of the ground and playing with it between his fingers. “You stand by the sea in Monaco and you look up and see mountains. It makes me feel cut off from the rest of the world, but also protected from it. Obviously Monaco has its reputation for a reason, but I’ve lived there my whole life so I don’t know any different.”

“It’s normal for you to see yachts and supercars and rich people every day.”

“Exactly,” Charles replied, nodding in agreement. “Everyone has a different normal. Where did you grow up?”

“In Glastonbury,” Lando said, fidgeting a little. “Which is famous for exactly one weekend a year and then dead for the rest of the time. My normal is being surrounded by fields and trees and farm animals, and being annoyed that I can’t drive fast on the roads because I might hit a tractor.”

“A tractor?” Charles smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tractor in Monaco.”

“You’re missing out,” Lando replied. He folded his hands behind his head and laid back on the grass, enjoying the feeling of the hot sun on his face. “I like it here,” he decided. “I could stay here for a while.”

Charles moved to lie on his side, resting his head on Lando’s chest and listening to his heart rate that was now really steady. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, happy that Lando had accepted his invitation to come and spend a few days in Monaco between races. Lando was easy company; Charles felt like he didn’t have to pretend to be on his best behaviour around him. Charles closed his eyes and hummed contentedly when he felt Lando’s fingers in his hair.

\---

Charles rolled over in bed to reach his arm around Lando but found the bed was empty. He patted the mattress and then opened his eyes, squinting at the clock. 03:47. Maybe Lando had gone to the toilet. Charles fidgeted in the bed and tried to get settled again, but suddenly he didn’t feel tired.

By 04:12, Charles had given up on the idea that Lando was in the bathroom and Charles clambered out of bed to go in search of Lando. He found Lando sitting outside on the balcony on a bean bag. Lando was wrapped in one of the blankets from the sofa and had his gaze fixed on a light on one of the yachts out in the ocean.

When Lando didn’t notice Charles’s presence, Charles went back into his apartment and made a big mug of tea. He only had peppermint tea in his kitchen but he knew English people drink tea, so in his mind, the logic made sense. He pulled a blanket over himself and carried the steaming mug out to the balcony, crouching down in front of Lando and holding the mug out for him. “Drink this.”

“Thank you,” Lando said quietly, accepting the mug and cradling it in his lap. “Did I wake you up?”

Charles shook his head and collapsed down on to the bean bag next to Lando, tucking his knees to his chest and surrounding himself with the blanket so only his head was sticking out. “I get insomnia too.”

“Falling asleep is never a problem,” Lando said, inhaling the minty steam from his mug. “It’s staying asleep that’s the problem. I’ve tried staying up later, but that just makes it worse. I don’t know.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

Lando shook his head, blowing over his tea before taking a small sip to check the temperature. It was still too hot to drink. “No, not really. I don’t dream at all, really, apart from when I’m drunk. I wonder if that’s just hallucinations though while I lie in bed in the middle of the night with my eyes closed. Do you?”

“I used to,” Charles replied, frowning a little. “But not so much anymore.”

“What do you have nightmares about?”

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it,” Charles replied, hesitating. He chewed his lip, remembering conversations he’d had with Pierre about how nobody would ever be able to help Charles if Charles didn’t share his pain or what he was thinking. Charles wasn’t sure he wanted Lando’s help though. It was nice having a new friend in his life who seemed to genuinely care about him and wasn’t just pitying him for his tragic backstory, and Charles didn’t want to scare Lando away.

“It’s okay, it’s a very personal question,” Lando said, sipping his tea now that it had cooled down a tenth of a degree. “Not everyone enjoys deep conversations at four o’clock in the morning.”

“I dream about being trapped,” Charles said quickly, feeling an urge to be open with Lando. He trusted him in a way he hadn’t trusted someone in a long time. He trusted Pierre because they’d known each other since they were children, but Pierre didn’t understand how Charles felt. Pierre had always seemed to stable, Charles didn’t know how he managed it.

“Trapped?”

“Yeah,” Charles continued. “Normally in a building, where I can’t find the way out, all the doors are locked, or I dream that I’m in an underground tunnel and it collapses and I wake up and all I can taste is mud.” He frowned a little and looked down at the floor, not wanting Lando to judge him for being insane.

“Do you feel trapped when you’re awake?” Lando asked, curious. “I don’t know how much you believe about the meaning of dreams, but if there’s a common theme, it could be related to your conscious brain.”

“Sometimes,” Charles replied, squinting at a mark in the tile on the balcony before looking up at Lando. “Don’t you?”

“Nearly every day,” Lando replied, smirking sadly. He sipped more of his tea and met Charles’s gaze. “I started racing when I was 7. Ever since then, it’s been the only thing I can do. There was never another option for me. It’s a good job I love it, I don’t know what else…” he trailed off, sipping more of his tea. “Sometimes I just want to finish it all, just get in a car and go.”

“Where would you go?”

“I haven’t worked that bit out yet,” Lando laughed, cradling his mug back in his lap. “It’s such a pain in the arse driving anywhere from home except the MTC.”

Charles stood up suddenly, his blanket falling away leaving him in just his underwear. He stood in front of Lando and reached out a hand to pull Lando to his feet. “We’ll go now.”

“Go where?” Lando asked, careful not to drop his mug as Charles pulled him to his feet, his own blanket falling as well.

“We’ll just go,” Charles said, taking Lando’s mug off him. “I’ll put this in a travel cup so you can bring it with you. Get dressed, get your passport, get your wallet.”

“You’re insane!” Lando protested, completely enthralled by the idea.

“So?”

Lando laughed and headed through to the bedroom, pulling on a fresh t-shirt from his suitcase and yesterday’s pair of jeans. He slid his wallet, phone, and passport into the back pockets and headed out to find Charles in the kitchen, screwing the top of a travel mug. “Where are we going?”

“Away from here,” Charles replied brightly, abandoning Lando and rushing to his bedroom, pulling on a similar outfit. He grabbed his wallet and phone and then met Lando back in the hallway, grabbing the keys to his Ferrari.

Lando recognised most of the roads as they drove away from Charles’s apartment, round the coast east through Menton. Once they passed the border into Italy, Lando was lost. He was lost, but he was happy. He’d never been one for spontaneity - there was no time for that when there was sim racing to be done - but now that they were here, following the coastal Italian roads, Lando was loving it.

“I love these roads,” Charles admitted. “I think this is my equivalent of your fields. I’m supposed to be near the sea.” They didn’t need the radio on, the sound of silence mixed with the purring noise of the Ferrari engine was enough. 

Charles pulled over every time Lando gasped and spotted something he wanted to see. Charles climbed out of the car and leant against the bonnet as Lando rushed over to the cliff edge, or the town square, or the random ugly statue, snapping a photo with his phone to keep the memories stored away safely.

By late morning, they made it to Genoa. Charles found a quiet corner of a car park to abandon his car and the two of them walked into the town centre for brunch and exploring. Neither of them said much - Charles occasionally pointed out places he had visited as a child and Lando listened attentively, wanting to discover as much about Charles as he could.

They walked around for a few hours before getting gelato, Charles helping Lando order in Italian, and walking back to the car. They sat down on a bench overlooking the sea, and Lando let out a contented sigh when he felt Charles’s arm around his shoulder. Lando cuddled in closer, licking the last of his ice cream out of the cone before stuffing that into his mouth as well.

“Where do you want to go next?” Charles asked, reaching his fingers up into Lando’s hair and squeezing the back of his neck, smirking when Lando’s neck went weak, his head falling against Charles’s shoulder.

“I don’t care,” Lando replied, cuddling into Charles, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to go.” He closed his eyes and relaxed even more, his breath hot against Charles’s neck. “Please.”

“I know a place,” Charles said. “I’ll need to make a call, but I should be able to get us a table for tonight. We’ll drive back on the toll road, it’s only two hours. Did you bring any smart clothes with you?”

Lando shook his head against Charles’s shoulder. “I just have t-shirts and my cycling stuff.”

“That’s okay, I can lend you one of my shirts,” Charles replied, kissing the top of Lando’s head. “I know one that you’ll look great in.”

\---

“Part of me doesn’t want to go back to England yet,” Lando admitted, wriggling in the bean bag on Charles’s balcony. “It’s so nice here. I can see why you would never want to move away. I’ve had such a great time.”

“I hope I’ve taken your mind off work for a while,” Charles laughed. “Pierre told me you and Carlos started a plan to poison me so I’d have to stop racing and you could get all my points.”

“That was supposed to be a secret!” Lando grinned. “Why do you think I agreed to come to Monaco, just you and me?”

“Why do you think I did all the cooking and making the drinks?” Charles retorted.

“Fuck!” Lando laughed, hiding his face in his hands. “You figured out my plan.”

“If you want me dead, you’ll have to do it with your bare hands,” Charles said, moving to squeeze onto the bean bag next to Lando. He reached an arm around Lando’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. 

“I guess you can live for now,” Lando replied, settling his head against Charles’s chest. “You’re so comfortable. I could just sit in your arms forever. I feel so safe here.”

“Might make it hard to drive the car,” Charles pointed out, tracing a pattern up and down Lando’s arm with his fingers, smiling when Lando squirmed at how much it tickled.

“I’d figure out a way,” Lando said, lifting his head to smile up at Charles. “Are we dating now?”

“I don’t know,” Charles replied, chewing his lip. “We’ve been on a few dates while we’ve been here, and we’ve slept in the same bed almost every night. Do you want to have more dates?”

“I think so,” Lando said tentatively. “It’s just hard, isn’t it? This past week has been just us, and nobody else. But next week we go racing again. When will we get time to see each other?”

“Everyone else seems to make it work.”

“Everyone else isn’t trying to win a championship,” Lando said, frowning. He sat forward in the bean bag, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his hands to his face, thinking hard. “Look at the championship winners over the past few years. Carlos wasn’t dating anyone when he won, Lewis wasn’t dating anyone when he won, Nico was already married, Seb already had someone long-term. Fuck, you have to go all the way back to Jenson to find someone who was dating when they won, and they didn’t even stay together.”

“So you think it’s doomed and therefore there’s no point even trying?” Charles asked, stung. “Why even bother if you’re just going to end up miserable?”

“No,” Lando sighed. “I don’t know. It hurts my head to think about.”

“Don’t think about it then,” Charles suggested, standing up from the bean bag and heading back into his apartment. He blinked away the tears that were threatening the corners of his eyes and walked into the kitchen, turning the kettle on because maybe Lando needed a cup of tea. He pressed his hands against the worktop and hung his head, screwing his eyes shut and berating himself for having the stupid idea that maybe he could date Lando.

“Charles?” Lando’s voice was quiet when he appeared in the doorway, leaning his head, shoulder, and hip against the frame. “You’re all I can think about. I don’t want to stop thinking about you.”

When Charles didn’t react, Lando continued. “I think about the things I want to show you in England. I think about us sleeping together one day and doing more than actually just sleeping. I think about how relaxed you make me feel. I think about how good I could make you feel too. I think about all the long drives we could do and all the stupidly steep bike rides we could go on, and I think about-”

Charles pushed away from the worktop and launched himself at Lando, catching Lando’s neck in his hands and kissing him deeply. He pushed Lando harder against the doorframe and crowded up against him, wanting to be as close as possible, pushing Lando’s thighs apart with his knee, his thumbs pressing up against Lando’s jaw.

“Stop,” Lando choked out between kisses, pulling at the back of Charles’s shirt. Though he felt excited, he also felt incredibly vulnerable, and his first reaction was to protect himself. Charles’s grip was strong and Lando panicked as he was forced up onto his tiptoes by Charles’s continued grip on his neck.

Charles pulled away immediately, taking a big step backwards into the kitchen, breathing hard. “I thought you wanted this?” he asked, hurt.

“I really do,” Lando replied, staring up at the ceiling as tears filled his eyes. He turned around and pressed his fists into the doorframe, not wanting to punch it and damage Charles’s apartment. “I want this so much.” He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the wood. “Fucking hell.”

“Talk to me?” Charles asked tentatively, stepping closer to Lando but not touching him. “Tell me what I’ve missed here. Tell me why I kissed you and now you’re crying.”

“I can’t,” Lando whimpered, folding his hands behind his head as he curled up on himself slightly. “I can’t.”

Charles put a tea bag in a mug and poured hot water over it, placing a spoon on top before turning his attention back to Lando. “Is it Max?” he asked, not wanting Lando to feel like he was being accused. Lando was allowed to be upset without Max being the cause of it every time. “Do I remind you of him?”

Lando let out a sob and pushed himself away from the doorframe. His mind was screaming at him to not fuck this up before it had even gotten started, like he had fucked up his relationship with Carlos. Lando forced himself to meet Charles’s gaze, and he rubbed the tears out of his eyes as more tears formed. “He’s been dead for over six months. I haven’t seen him for over two years. I was supposed to be doing better.”

“Tell me what I did wrong,” Charles pleaded. “Please?”

“It’s just the way you grabbed me,” Lando said, his voice cracking. “I did want you to kiss me, and I did like it, but then I felt trapped, like I couldn’t move, and I panicked.”

“And that’s what he did to you?” Charles asked, piecing together more of Lando’s story in his mind. “It was more than just a one-off argument, wasn’t it?”

“It was just over a year,” Lando explained, wrapping his arms around himself. “He wasn’t violent at first.”

“But he made you feel trapped?”

Lando nodded. “He raped me multiple times. He used to wrap his hands around my neck like you did, but he would choke me until I was unconscious. He wanted me to know that he could end my life any time he wanted.”

Charles bit his lip hard, not even trying to fight the tears trickling down his own cheeks. “Can I hold you?”

“You shouldn’t have to comfort me,” Lando protested. “It’s not your job to try and fix me. I’m sorry I’m so pathetic.”

“You said earlier you feel safe in my arms,” Charles said, opening his arms to Lando and taking a small step forwards. “Please? I just want you to feel safe here. You can let go anytime you want.”

Lando let out another sob and threw himself at Charles, wrapping his arms around Charles’s back and hiding his face against Charles’s collar bone. He didn’t flinch when Charles placed his hands on the small of his back, cuddling him close but not with too much pressure.

“I’m so sorry I reminded you of what he did,” Charles whispered against Lando’s hair, looking up at the ceiling to try and will away his tears. “It’s not a defence, but I was just enthusiastic. I can get rough sometimes, but I won’t do that to you. I only want to make you happy, Lando.” He frowned to himself, wondering how much of what he’d said would have been something Max had said too.

Lando said nothing and pressed himself harder against Charles, fisting the back of his shirt.

“Can we have another go at kissing?” Charles asked, rubbing circles against the small of Lando’s back.

Lando smirked and pulled away from Charles just enough to meet his gaze. “You still want to kiss me, even though I’m crying and I look like shit?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to lift you up onto the counter,” Charles said, giving Lando a couple of seconds of warning before he reached his hands down the back of Lando’s thighs and lifted him up off the floor, sitting him down on the worktop. Charles stood between Lando’s legs and put his hands on the worktop either side of Lando’s hips. “I’ll stand like this,” he said, close to Lando but not touching him. “You control this kiss.”

Lando fidgeted nervously, reaching his hands up and wiping the tears off of Charles’s cheeks. He kissed Charles’s forehead and traced his fingers down Charles’s cheeks, smiling at him. As he leant in close, he smiled more when Charles’s eyelids fluttered closed and he pressed his lips against Charles’s. Lando’s tears subsided as he deepened the kiss, his heart swelling when Charles didn’t open his mouth until Lando licked his tongue over his lips. Even with gentle Carlos, Lando had never had this much control over what happened.

Lando kissed Charles again, sliding his hands up into Charles’s hair, grinning when Charles moaned appreciatively at the massage. Lando broke the kiss, dragging his thumb over Charles’s lips and he smiled at him before kissing him again. By the time he broke the kiss again, his tea was cold enough to drink.

\---

Lando’s parents came out to the race in Belgium, and Lando was glad that he was fastest in first and second practice, topping the timesheets by over three tenths of a second. Everyone else had work to do if they wanted to catch him.

On Friday after second practice, Lando was dragged into a Sky interview with George and Alex. Lando sat on the end stool, fidgeting to get comfortable because his feet didn’t reach the footrest, waving his microphone around until he had something worth saying. He grinned as Charles walked past the back of the interview, playfully elbowing him in the side before giving him a wave and running off.

“George and Alex, you’re both wearing wedding rings now!” Rachel beamed, not sure if they’d spent all weekend talking about it. “No prizes for guessing what you got up to over the summer break. Will we see your wives in the paddock this weekend?

Lando froze on his seat, eyes wide as he looked to George and Alex for their responses. He couldn’t believe they were just about to be outed on television. Lando didn’t think he’d ever wear a wedding ring in public; it was much easier to hide when there were no public signs of your relationship status. 

“Unfortunately not,” Alex replied. “She’s working.”

“How about you, George?”

“No, she’s travelling.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Rachel cooed. “Did you get time for a honeymoon, at least?”

“Yes,” George replied, smiling. He enjoyed the fact that he could be open whilst still keeping so much of his life a secret. “Ten days in Portugal. It was stunning; best trip of my life.”

“And you, Alex?”

“We’re going to Thailand after the end of the season for a month or so,” Alex replied. “There’ll really be time to relax then, and we’ll probably need it since the season is so long now.”

“Well, congratulations to you both!” Rachel smiled. “Lando, what did you get up to over the summer break?”

“I mostly just went to weddings,” Lando grinned, choosing not to share the fact that he’d spent six days of his break sleeping in Charles’s bed. “It’s good to be back racing this weekend, though. I just want it to be Sunday so we can do some proper driving.”

\---

The Belgium week was busy for Charles and Lando, they barely got more than ten minutes to see each other; just long enough for a quick kiss and checking that they were still in a good place. The Italian Grand Prix was even busier for Charles, who spent most of his time in front of a TV camera when he wasn’t in the car. There was a lot of pressure for him to deliver a win for the team, and he threw up after only finishing fourth in qualifying. Charles texted Lando later that night. “I hate everything xx” followed by another message reading “except you xx” It was only when Lando replied with “I believe in you” and a heart emoji that Charles managed to fall asleep.

At the end of the race, Charles finished second to his team-mate, annoyed that he hadn’t won but glad that he’d helped deliver a 1-2 finish for the team. The party at the track continued long into the night when Charles was already asleep on the flight back to Monaco, more encouraging words and loving emojis from Lando waiting in his whatsapp notifications for when he landed.

\---

“What do you want, Charles?” George asked curiously, grabbing the bottle of the wine from the table and refilling everyone’s glasses. “You clearly invited me and Carlos out to dinner for a reason. Why are you even in England?” Though his questions were probing, his tone was not. 

Charles shifted in his seat and reached for his wine glass, taking a big sip. “I want to talk about Lando,” he explained. “And Max.”

Carlos’s eyes narrowed and he stilled his fingers around the stem of his wine glass; it made sense now why Pierre had gone out for dinner with Lando and Alex. Charles and Lando had taken each other’s closest network out for deep discussions over steak. “Does Lando know you’re here?”

“Yes,” Charles replied, relaxing back in his chair. “It was his idea, actually. Did he tell you we spent time together over the summer break?”

“He said he visited you in Monaco,” George explained. “I’m going to assume you spent the whole time shagging.”

“No, not even once,” Charles clarified. “I know I have a history of doing that, and I’m sure Lando’s going to hear about it from Pierre and Alex, but we didn’t have sex at all.”

“What do you want to ask about Max?” Carlos asked, still frowning.

“I want to understand what happened the night Max was arrested,” Charles replied. “Lando’s tried telling me about it, but he says there are holes in his memory, and some stuff he can’t talk about without getting upset. He said he’d be okay with me asking you two about it; he said you were there at the hospital?”

“I was there at his house,” Carlos said, taking a sip of his wine. “If he doesn’t remember that part, I need to call him before I’ll tell you anything, I’m sorry.” He set his wine glass down on the table and pulled his phone out of his pocket, standing up from his chair and disappearing out the front of the restaurant.

“I’m sorry this isn’t a fun dinner,” Charles said, glancing at George. “Is Carlos okay?”

“Yeah, he’s alright,” George replied, trying to sound reassuring. “I don’t know if he’s ever told anyone what happened that night, though. I can explain what happened once I got to the hospital, but I will never forget that phone call I got from Carlos in the middle of the night. The desperation in his voice, I’ve only heard that twice in my life, and both times it was from him.”

“When was the other time?”

“The night they found out Max died. Carlos was packing for his flight back to Spain and Lando showed up at his house. Alex and I spent three days down there with them, just helping them do basic things like eat and shower. It’s good, what you’re trying to do, trying to understand more about what Lando’s been through before you get too involved with him, but… fuck, Charles, it’s dark.”

“It’s not like my life has always been sunny and happy,” Charles protested, reaching for a slice from the breadbasket and dipping it in oil and vinegar. “I’ve had dark times too.”

“I know you have,” George said sympathetically. “And I’m not trying to belittle you. I’m just saying that you’ve never been in the hospital because your boyfriend tried to murder you.”

Carlos came back to the table, sighing heavily as he sank back down into his chair. “I’ve talked to Lando, he’s okay. He said he’s enjoying hearing all your embarrassing stories. Something about a Russian model who wasn’t really a model?”

“She wasn’t even Russian!” Charles grinned, rolling his eyes.

“Lando’s okay with us telling you everything,” Carlos said, reaching for his wine glass. “I guess I’ll start.” He took a big sip of his wine and then recounted what he remembered from the night, about how he’d been woken up by Lando’s phone call and made his way over to Lando’s house to find Lando being lifted into the back of the ambulance and Max standing in the street, covered in blood, his hands cuffed behind his back as he ranted about how it was just a misunderstanding.

Carlos gripped his wine glass tighter, spinning it and creating a little whirlpool in the dark red liquid. “The image that sticks with me is of Max, covered in scratch marks from where Lando fought back,” he said, staring at his glass. “I honestly thought Lando was going to die. I followed the ambulance to the hospital and I genuinely thought he was going to be dead by the time we got there.”

“He didn’t, though,” George said, trying to find a positive. He reached out and put his hand on Carlos’s arm, gently rubbing it. “His injuries were pretty bad. Max had raped him, and strangled him, and thrown him down the stairs. He had broken ribs and concussion and damage to his neck. I think he still has issues with his neck now, right?”

Carlos nodded. “He tore things in his neck when he struggled against Max,” he said, frowning at his wine. If Lando had fought back less, he wouldn’t have damaged his neck as much, but if he hadn’t fought back at all, he’d be even more likely to have died. “But he hasn’t destroyed his neck. He can still race. He just has bad days sometimes, like with any big injury.”

George rubbed Carlos’s arm some more, trying to comfort him. “Carlos called me and I met him at the hospital. We convinced Lando to talk to the police because originally he didn’t want anything to do with them. Then there was a restraining order so Max couldn’t contact Lando, and they took his passport off him as well. I think they were worried he’d leave the country and not come back. In the end, Max pled guilty so there wasn’t a trial. He was sentenced to five years and none of us went to visit him or heard from him until Lando got the call that he was dead.”

“Excuse me,” Carlos mumbled, tears in eyes. He let go of his wine glass and stood up from the table, gazed fixed firmly downwards as he disappeared into the restaurant bathroom.

George sighed, watching Carlos leave before turning his attention back to Charles. “It’s hard for him. Does knowing what happened help?”

Charles nodded, downing the last of his wine and pushing his empty glass into the middle of the table. “Carlos and Lando, they’re close.”

“They got too close,” George replied. “That would be my biggest concern if you and Lando started a relationship. Things got too blurred between them, and Carlos ended up a complete wreck. I would worry that the same thing would happen to you, and that Carlos would have to pick up the pieces of Lando again. It wouldn’t be fair on anyone.”

“I could cope.”

“Could you?” George asked, frowning. “I know your history, Charles. I’ve seen you with a different person every race, sometimes a different person every day over a weekend. If you start this with Lando, you can’t just drop him and move on when you find someone more interesting to play with.”

“That’s not fair,” Charles snapped. “Do you really think I’d do that to Lando? Do you really think I’d be here, looking for approval from his closest friends, practically begging for permission to date him, if I was just going to fuck him and then run away? Come on, George, I might have a long history of being terrible, but even I’m not that terrible, am I?”

“No, you’re right,” George replied, holding his hands up and back-pedalling. “I’m sorry. Do you understand where Carlos and I are coming from though? We’ve dealt with the fallout - Carlos especially - of Lando’s bad choices. I don’t think Carlos can go through that again, and we don’t want to see Lando get hurt. We don’t want to see you get hurt either.”

“Where’s the steak? I’m fucking hungry,” Carlos groaned, sliding back into his chair, aware of the tension between George and Charles. “What did I miss?”

“What would be your concerns if I started properly dating Lando?” Charles asked tentatively.

Carlos thought for a moment, considering Charles’s question and trying to form a proper answer. “As far as I know, Lando has only ever dated two people, both of them racing drivers. My biggest concern is that he still feels lost in life and is looking to fill a hole in his heart. I would worry that if you are not the right shape to fill that hole, it will end in a big mess for everyone.”

Charles nodded, understanding. “That’s why you and Pierre tried so hard to separate us at the wedding. You were worried we’d both rush into something stupid and hurt each other.”

“Exactly,” Carlos replied, his mouth watering as a waiter appeared with three plates of medium-cooked steaks. He politely thanked the waiter and immediately stuffed a chip into his mouth. “I still worry about that,” he continued, “but if you think you’re in a place mentally where you can take care of your own heart while also taking care of Lando, and he feels the same way, then I’m not going to stand in the way of you being together.”

“Yeah, I agree,” George added. “You phrased it so much better than me. We love you, and we love Lando, and if you two can make each other happy, then that’s only a good thing. God knows you both deserve to be happy.”

\---

Lando grinned to himself as he pulled up behind Alex and Pierre; they’d driven in convoy after their meal to go and pick up the other three. Carlos and Pierre had the shortest drive home, whereas it would take Alex and George over an hour to get back to Oxford. Lando wound down his window and called out to Charles. “Taxi for Leclerc!”

Charles hugged Carlos and George goodnight and then hurried over to Lando’s car, climbing into the passenger seat. He buckled his seatbelt and sighed heavily, sinking down into the chair. “My head hurts. Does your head hurt?”

“So much,” Lando replied. “I just want to go home, get into bed with you, and sleep. Can we do that?”

“That sounds amazing,” Charles said, reaching across and grabbing Lando’s hand. “You’re so lucky to have Carlos and George looking out for you.”

“They’re okay, I guess,” Lando laughed. “A bit too protective sometimes, telling me what to do and that. I’m not a child anymore.”

“No, Lando,” Charles said, sitting up straighter and gripping Lando’s hand tighter. “What we talked about tonight, everything they’ve gone through, everything they’ve done just trying to keep you safe, fuck, I can’t even imagine how tough it was for them.”

“I get it, I really do,” Lando said, his tone more serious this time. “But next time I see them I’ll remind them just how much I appreciate them, okay?”

Charles nodded. “How did it go with Alex and Pierre? Did they try and recruit you to the Red Bull programme?”

“No chance,” Lando replied, pulling out into the late night west London traffic. “McLaren for life.”

“But did it go okay?”

“Pierre cried,” Lando explained, “so obviously I had to have a sympathy cry as well. I have no control when someone else is upset, I just start crying too. I’m glad Alex is so emotionally stable otherwise it would have been a total mess.”

“Why did Pierre cry?” Charles asked. He knew Pierre cared deeply about him, they’d been friends since they were small children, but he didn’t think Pierre felt so strongly that talking about Charles would make him cry.

“He just wants to see you happy,” Lando replied. “He worries about how much you sleep around; he thinks one day you’ll sleep with the wrong person and end up dead in a gutter. They both said you’ll go and have a one night stand with someone instead of dealing with your emotions. They talked about your grief, and how you sometimes disappear for days without talking to anyone.”

“It’s all true,” Charles said, watching Lando as Lando watched the road. “Did they say anything positive about me, or was it all about how terrible I am?”

“They said the fact we haven’t had sex yet is a good thing,” Lando replied. “Alex said it’s probably the longest you’ve dated anyone since you dated him.”

Charles scoffed, fidgeting in his seat. “That’s probably also true. But they can’t tell you the stuff they don’t know, right? They can’t tell you how I haven’t had sex at all, with anyone, since the start of the season. They can’t tell you how they don’t notice when I disappear now because it’s only for a couple of days at a time. They can’t tell you how hard I’m trying to turn things around, because since I got a reputation for being promiscuous, or however you want to call it, it’s just easier to keep that reputation, isn’t it?”

“I can’t even pronounce that word,” Lando said, turning on cruise control now that they were out of the side streets and back on the A3 towards Guildford. “You really haven’t had sex this year?”

“I really haven’t,” Charles replied honestly. “I realised that if you treat yourself like shit, it gives other people permission to treat you like shit as well. I mean, I’ve definitely wanted to have sex, and there have been some opportunities, but I’ve always said no.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe I actually deserve to be with someone who’s willing to wait,” Charles said, picking fluff off his trousers. “And maybe I should be willing to wait for the right person. Pierre had a point. I’ve definitely had some scary encounters I wouldn’t want to repeat. I don’t know if I’m ready to settle down, or whatever, I still want to drink and party, but I’m ready to commit to a proper relationship and sleep in the same bed with the same person every night.”

“What did Carlos and George say about me?”

“That you have a hole in your heart and you try to fill it with racing drivers,” Charles smirked. “Maybe you should try sleeping around so they don’t think that.”

“I’m too shy,” Lando admitted. “I don’t think I could talk anyone into a one-night stand.”

Charles resisted the urge to explain about how lots of talking really wasn’t needed to get someone into bed and that in fact he’d even slept with a few people whose name he didn’t know. Instead, they sat in silence for a few minutes, both staring at the road ahead.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando said, breaking the silence. “Do you think we’re as fucked up as our friends say we are?”

“No. I think things happen in life that fuck you up, but these things could happen to anyone. We’re all just one phone call, or one car crash, away from being destroyed.”

“It’s hard work, trying not to be fucked up,” Lando said distantly. 

“That’s also true,” Charles said, “but we only get one life, and we don’t know how long it is, so we shouldn’t deny ourselves an opportunity to be happy, should we? I could die tomorrow. I don’t want to die thinking I could have tried harder.”

\---

Lando liked the aftercare almost as much as the sex with Charles. They’d both learned that the only way their relationship would be successful would be if they were completely open with each other. They both felt like they could tell each other things that they couldn’t tell their friends. They shared an understanding that people only had after they’d confronted their own mortality. It was something none of their friends understood.

Before they’d had sex for the first time, they’d spent nearly an hour cuddling in Lando’s bed, talking about boundaries and fantasies and what they did and didn’t like. Lando felt insecure about being compared to the countless number of people Charles had slept with; Charles was nervous to touch Lando at all in case he reminded him of Max. Lando’s only request was that it stayed easy to breathe throughout - no grabbing his neck, no pressing on his chest, no smothering him with kisses. He had no issues with Charles clawing at his thighs as Lando sat on top of him, controlling the pace, whimpering as his orgasm tore through him, Charles’s own following seconds later.

Lando left Charles panting on the bed and went into his bathroom, running a bath for the two of them. He added in a bit too much bubble bath and lit a scented candle on the windowsill, leaving the bath to fill as he went back for Charles.

“Was that okay?” Charles asked, sitting up and reaching for Lando’s hand. “Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, and yes,” Lando replied, leaning over Charles and kissing him. “Come on. I’m making us a bath.”

Charles clambered off the bed and followed Lando into his bathroom. “Lando, are you sure it was okay for you?” he asked, putting his hands on Lando’s hips and holding him still. “I scratched you.”

Lando turned around in Charles’s arms and smiled up at him. “That’s how I knew I was making you feel good,” he explained, guiding Charles’s hands over the scratch marks on his thighs to show Charles he didn’t feel any pain from them. “It was great, well, really great, actually. Did you have fun too?”

Charles nodded and kissed Lando. “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m fine!” Lando beamed, pulling away from Charles and turning off the taps. He ran his hand through the foam and plunged it into the water, checking the temperature. He carefully climbed over the side of the bath and sat down with his back against the back of the bath, grinning up at Charles. “Are you getting in, or what?”

Charles climbed into the bathtub, settling in the space between Lando’s legs. He scooted down until he was almost lying down, his legs bent so his knees were sticking out through the bubbles as he settled his head on Lando’s chest. He closed his eyes and pulled Lando’s arms around him, sighing contentedly.

\---

Carlos sat in his driver’s room after the race in Japan, gathering his thoughts before going out to face the world. He was frustrated at having crashed out of the race and in the process taking himself out of the championship hunt. Mathematically he’d only been four points still inside it before the start of the race, but it still sucked to know it was over and he wouldn’t be retaining his title. With four races left, Lando would need to win every single race and get fastest lap twice with Charles not scoring a single extra point. More bizarre things had happened, but it did seem unlikely that Lando would stop Charles.

Carlos scrolled through his phone, smiling when he saw a text message from Pierre with nothing but a page full of racing car and crying face emojis and he frowned when he heard a noise from Lando’s room next door. The building was such that noises weren’t overheard outside in the main part of the building, but it felt like the wall between their two rooms was made of paper. Carlos listened hard and heard Lando whimpering, a sound he’d heard countless times before, but his blood curdled when he heard a howl of pain from Lando.

Carlos jumped out of his seat and dashed out of his room, not even bothering to knock before entering Lando’s room. He found Lando on his back on the massage bench in his room in his underwear, both hands pressing on his left shoulder, his fingers up the side of his neck.

“What happened?” Carlos asked, panic in his voice.

“Nothing,” Lando grimaced, rubbing furious at his trap muscle and hunching his shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t fucking look fine,” Carlos retorted. “Is it cramp, or is it from the race?”

“It’s from the race,” Lando hissed, writhing on the massage table. “Fuck!”

“Where’s Jon?”

“He left for an early flight,” Lando replied, his eyes still screwed shut in agony. “It’s his Mum’s birthday; I told him it was fine.”

“We’ve got to get you to the medical centre then,” Carlos said, looking around for Lando’s clothes. “Do you think you can walk?” he asked, his heart aching as Lando tried to contain another whimper. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, my friend, but I can’t help you here. You need a doctor.”

Lando tried his best not to swear too much as Carlos helped into a polo shirt and trousers and he thanked Carlos and apologised to him multiple times while Carlos helped him with his shoes. He gripped Carlos’s hand tightly as they walked through the paddock to the medical centre, trying their best to look discreet. The only person who approached them on the way was Pierre, who disappeared into the crowds again when Carlos said ‘find Charles.’

Lando wasn’t sure what the doctors gave him, he couldn’t remember if it was an anti-inflammatory or a muscle-relaxant or just a regular horse-tranquilising painkiller, but whatever it was, it worked and he was soon laid on a trolley in a quiet corner of the medical centre, an IV drip in his arm for good measure. The doctors were very helpful, glad to have something to do other than give out electrolytes to light-headed team personnel. 

Lando napped for nearly half an hour and when he woke up, he was startled to find Charles peering over him, a worried look on his face. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, clearing his throat.

“If you’re fine, why are you in the medical centre?” Charles asked, frowning. “Did you just come here for a nap?”

“Are you mad at me?” Lando asked, lifting himself into a sitting position and hissing at the throbbing in his neck.

“No, I’m just worried,” Charles said, leaning against the edge of the mattress. “Carlos told me you fucked up your neck in the race.”

“It’s happened before,” Lando said, reaching for Charles’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “It’s not right before I get in the car and then I spend two hours trying to compensate and by the time I get out of the car, it’s agony and my arm is going numb.”

“Which side is it that hurts?”

“Left.”

Charles leant down and pressed a soft kiss to Lando’s neck, just below his jaw. “Does that help?”

“I don’t know, do it again.”

Charles scoffed, dipping his head and peppering several slow kisses against Lando’s neck. “How about now?”

“I still don’t know, maybe you should give me more kisses.”

“I think you’re going to be fine,” Charles said, kissing Lando’s forehead before standing back up. “I can’t stay long, I still have work to do, but do you think you’ll be going back to the hotel tonight? Or are they going to transfer you to a hospital?”

“I think they’ll let me go back to the hotel,” Lando replied, squeezing Charles’s hand. “I’ll see if I can upgrade my flight from business to first as well, just so I have more room to lie down and roll around. It’ll be sore for a few days, I’m sure.”

“Come home with me,” Charles said, reaching his free hand up to smoothe Lando’s hair away from his eyes. “Get your travel rep to put you on my flight. I’m on the Lufthansa flight back to Nice, via Frankfurt.”

“I’ve got to be at the factory later in the week.”

“So do I,” Charles replied, “but we can still disappear for 48 hours, just you and me. Will you? I’ll do your laundry for you.”

Lando nodded, wincing. “Yes. I’ll talk to my travel rep. I’ll come to Monaco.”

\---

By the time they got to the last race of the season, Charles had the championship well and truly wrapped up. He’d qualified on pole in Abu Dhabi and the race was mostly just a victory lap for him, a big display of dick-waving where his was bigger than everyone else’s. Lando and Pierre joined him on the podium and in the press conference afterwards, Charles described it as his favourite win of the season. It showed his dominance and he had two great drivers there with him. Three different teams being represented showed just how competitive the season had been and Charles was both proud and ecstatic to have finished on top.

At the after party that night, George and Alex stood on the balcony, sipping their cocktails and watching everyone else on the dancefloor below. George smiled when his eyes settled on Charles and Lando, both grinning widely as they danced with each other. “You know,” he said to Alex. “Sometimes I quite like being wrong about things.”

“How do you mean?”

“Look at those two,” he said, pointing down at the dancefloor.

“What, Daniel and whatever-her-name-is from marketing?”

“No!” George laughed. “Lando and Charles. Have you ever seen people look more in love?”

“Only when I look at you,” Alex smirked, laughing harder when George elbowed him and told him it wasn’t too late to have their marriage annulled.

“I mean it,” George said, sipping his bright pink drink and smiling as Charles twirled Lando around in his arms. “This has been the best year of my life. I’ve married you, I’ve seen Carlos finally get with someone who makes him happy, and now these two. I know I’m a soppy romantic, but… I like it, that’s all. I’m not going to apologise for enjoying seeing other people happy.”

“No, I agree,” Alex said, resting his head on George’s shoulder. “You know they can’t ever get married though, right?”

“Why not?”

“Well, think about it,” Alex continued, standing up straight and sipping his own mojito. “If they get married, he’ll be Charles Norris. He’ll literally be, Chuck Norris.”

“Oh my God you’re right,” George said, almost choking on his drink. “They’ll just have to do what we did and take their surnames as middle names.”

“So he’ll be Chuck Norris Leclerc?! I don’t know if that’s better,” Alex smirked. “They’ll have to smash their names together or something instead. Leclorris? Norriclerc?”

“Just stop,” George said, nudging Alex in the ribs again. “Let them be young and in love without worrying about marriage. Are you excited for our trip to Thailand?”

“I’ve been excited since the day we booked the flights,” Alex replied. “You, me, a treehouse villa in the rainforest with our own pool? Abso-fucking-lutely am I excited.”

\---

“This is by the far the stupidest of our adventures,” Lando admitted, turning down a side street in Paris. He neatly parallel-parked the Ferrari (Charles had added him to the insurance) and turned off the engine, glancing at Charles. “You’re 100% sure they’re here?”

“100%,” Charles replied. “We won’t stay long. I just hope they’re still here and not out at a restaurant or something.”

“It’s Christmas Day,” Lando said, climbing out of the car, careful not to slam his fingers in the door like he’d done last time he drove. “Are restaurants even open?”

“C’est Paris, mon amour,” Charles grinned. “There’s always somewhere to eat.” He opened the boot and pulled out two large shopping bags, one with a tag labelled ‘Carlos’ and the other with a tag labelled ‘Pierre.’

“And you’re sure they won’t be pissed off with us for gatecrashing their Christmas?” Lando asked, closing the boot lid and locking their car.

“Oh, they’ll definitely be pissed off,” Charles retorted, following Lando up the path to the house that Charles and Pierre had bought, spending half their time in London and half their time in Paris. “But what is the point of Christmas if you cannot surprise your best friends?”

Lando took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, taking a small step back. He looked back at Charles for reassurance, laughing nervously when Charles had none to offer him, and he span back around when the door opened.

“I knew it!” Pierre half screamed, half laughed. He threw his arms around Lando and hugged him tightly. “You don’t double-check where someone is on Christmas Day if you don’t plan on surprising them. Come in, my friends!” He let Lando get past him into the house before he grabbed Charles and squeezed him tight. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“We’re not interrupting, are we?” Lando checked, wandering through the house to find Carlos who was in the kitchen, surrounded by Christmas music and the smell of cinnamon.

“My friend, I knew you were coming.” Carlos hugged Lando and kissed both his cheeks. “We saved you some food, you must be starving.”

“Oh Carlos, you didn’t need to do that,” Lando said, hugging Carlos again. “Thank you.”

“It’s what, nine hours to drive here?” said Carlos. “Ten? Enough that you will need feeding, for sure. Come, my friend, go and sit at the table.”

Lando did as he was told and made his way through to the dining room, smiling at the large tree in the corner with two fancy gift bags underneath it. His heart melted when he saw that one had his name on the side. 

Charles came through a few moments later and the two of them inhaled their Christmas dinner while Pierre and Carlos drank more wine. They shared stories of their nine hour drive and the things they’d seen on their way across France, Charles laughing as he told his friends about Lando’s bad pronunciation of road signs and Lando almost wetting himself when Charles got into an argument with an old lady in a petrol station.

The four of them opened their presents and ate cheese and crackers, Lando turning his nose up at anything that wasn’t brie and Carlos teasing him for still having the food preferences of a child. Charles promised to help Lando progress to adult food choices. They stayed up late into the night, with Charles falling asleep in Lando’s arms on the sofa to get some rest so he could take the first driving shift on Boxing Day. They were booked onto one of the first eurotunnel crossings with a plan to get to Lando’s parents for lunch time.

\---

Lando chased Charles up the hill, his lungs burning and his quads screaming at him to stop trying to pedal his bike on this sort of gradient. Lando was stubborn, though, and Charles was winning. Still annoyed that the south of France had more mountains than Surrey, Lando stood up on his pedals and dropped down a gear, finally getting the bike to move in a way that included forward momentum.

Lando pushed hard and eventually reeled Charles in, careful not to clip the back wheel of Charles’s bike with the front wheel of his own and take them both out, Lando pulled alongside Charles, glad that he was wearing Charles down. He pushed harder, pulling his legs up as well as pushing them down, taking full advantage of his clipless pedals, his legs firing like pistons and by the time they got to the top, Lando was at least half a bike length in front of Charles.

They both unclipped their feet and jumped off of their bikes, abandoning their bikes and helmets against a rock and hurrying out to their favourite patch of grass. Lando threw himself down on the ground and Charles collapsed on top of him. 

“I won!” Lando beamed, pulling Charles in close for a kiss. “You have no idea how hard I’ve been working in the gym trying to get my legs stronger for days like these.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles said, sliding his hands down Lando’s thighs, squeezing them lovingly. As their breathing slowed down and their heart rates recovered, Charles laid down on top of Lando, pressing his hands into the grass either side of Lando’s head.

“Tell me you love me in every language you know,” Lando said, smiling up at Charles. “Please?”

“Okay,” Charles said, complying with Lando’s request, punctuating his language switches with kisses. “Which one was your favourite?”

“Italian.”

“Ti amo,” Charles said, resting his forehead against Lando’s. He closed his eyes and kissed Lando again, for much longer this time. As the months had passed, Lando’s confidence had grown and now he enjoyed being smothered with Charles’s kisses. Lying in Charles’s bed in Monaco, breathless, was Lando’s favourite way to spend a weekday morning.

“I love you too,” Lando whispered. “Happy second anniversary.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I hope I did a good job for Lando. <3


End file.
